Embers at Galdrilene (22 page)

Silence hung over everyone for a long moment. Mckale thought back to his childhood when he and his friends would scare each other with tales of dragons and magic, always told on cold, dark evenings when the wind rattled the shutters and the howls of wolves rose in the air. Now, sitting here in the grass, a warm, spring breeze soft around him and the sun rising in a clear sky, he discussed real dragons and he could use magic.

Loki broke the silence, “Yer really old, Emallya.”

Quiet laughter ran around the camp, breaking some of the tension.

Mckale cleared his throat. “So, if there used to be only colored dragons how did the black dragons come to be?”

Emallya looked at him. “I will tell you both how there came to be black dragons and how this lake came to be, since one exists because of the other. They are almost two parts of the same story. It is a long story and a sad one.

“Not everyone who is capable of magic will hear the Dragon Song. Those that did not still came to Galdrilene for training. They still needed to learn control and how to apply their magic in the best ways to help those around them.

“Galdrilene was not only the home of the dragons and those bonded to them. It was also a great center of learning. For time beyond remembering, those called by the Dragon Song and those called by their magic worked to keep peace and to protect. Each dragon color is bound to an element of magic.

“One young man by the name of Galdivan was called by only his magic. He envied the Dragon Riders and wanted desperately to bond with a dragon. But the Dragon Song cannot be forced; it comes only to those who are called.”

She paused and looked around at them before continuing, “His jealousy grew in him like an evil seed although he hid it well from those around him. The dragons never liked him. I was told they were never able to give a sure answer why. Upon reflection it is easy enough to see.

“Galdivan managed to steal two eggs from a newly laid clutch. Though they searched for him, he wasn’t found. He had secretly practiced many dark, forbidden arts. With that knowledge he hid himself and the eggs from the searching dragons. The theft of the eggs was no small feat; they are quite large and well protected. It is still not known how he managed it.

“He used his dark skills on the eggs. He knew neither would ever call to him and would therefore never hatch for him. So he set about to change them and change them he did.”

Deep sadness shadowed Emallya’s eyes. “When he was done the eggs were as black as night. Yet, they still would not hatch for him. He changed them so much they no longer sang the Dragon Song to their destined riders. It took him some time, but he finally figured out how to hatch them. The dragons in the eggs were only half in this world after he finished with them. He finally hatched one by allowing the young, twisted dragon to take half of his soul.

“The dragon that hatched now carried the black color of his egg on his body. Only his underside showed the true color he had been meant to be. It ran from under his jaw to his belly and the underside of his tail in a sickly gold color. If gold could tarnish, that is how it would have looked.

“The dragon, with half of its life force given to it by Galdivan, was more like a shadow of a dragon.” Anger chased the sadness in Emallya’s face and voice. “Incapable of free thought, it had none of the deep-set instinctive knowledge or moral code a normal dragon possesses. It was more like a tool mindlessly doing what its handler directed.

“The next tragedy came when he found a woman as twisted as he, who could also use magic. She gladly gave up half her soul and hatched the second egg. It was the birth of the Shadow Riders.”

A sinking feeling settled into the pit of Mckale’s stomach. Some of the tales were true. In his mind, the hum crooned with a mixture of anger and sadness.

Emallya continued, “The dragons and riders of Galdrilene felt something wrong in the world. ‘Like a chord struck wrong in the middle of a peaceful melody’ they said. But Galdivan was smart and continued to shield what he did. Far out in the Shadderack Desert, using every power he had, he hid and built his army. The Shadow Dragons mated and laid more black eggs. Galdivan turned his evil powers on the wild beasts known as the Kojen that roamed the desert. He twisted them as he had the eggs. They became mindless, killing machines that would not stop until they killed the target he pointed them at.”

She glanced at the hill hiding the lake from view. “One day many years from the time the eggs were stolen, Galdivan brought his army against those who first trained him. A large group of riders and dragons from Galdrilene camped here next to this lake. Galdivan came upon them with his twisted Kojen and his Shadow Dragons. Outnumbered and caught by surprise, all of the dragons and riders camped here were killed. That is the battle this lake remembers. That was the beginning of the War of Fire.”

Serena, her food forgotten in her hand, asked quietly, “Did your dragon die in that battle?”

“No, the War of Fire had already raged for more than fifty years before Rylin called me. This is the history I learned from those who lived at the time and what Rylin showed me when she hatched.”

Mckale shifted uneasily, his mind in chaos. Could there really have been good dragons? “How do we know any of this is true? We’ve been told all of our lives that people who use magic go insane. No offense meant, but how do we know you aren’t crazy from your magic?”

Emallya looked him in the eye. “You have no way of knowing at this time. However, if you care to find out then continue to travel with me. The safe place I spoke of is the city of Galdrilene. Besides me, my bondmate and his dragon are the only riders to survive the last battle of the War of Fire. I invite you to see for yourself. You do not have to come of course. As I said, the Dragon Song cannot be forced. It must first be offered by the unhatched dragon and then it must be fully accepted by the one receiving it.”

“What is this Dragon Song?” Kirynn asked. “You have mentioned it several times.”

“That is the hum you hear in your mind. Of course, all of you have heard more than the hum. You are also picking up on your unhatched dragon’s feelings and they are picking up on yours. What you feel now is something I have only read about. No one from my time progressed so far before Hatching.”

Vaddoc poured another cup of tea. “Why not?”

“Every youngster knew what the Dragon Song was. They would leave their homes and go to the nearest Guardian Tower where they were offered passage to Galdrilene on dragon back. It was considered the greatest honor to be called by the Dragon Song. Among Dragon Riders it was a duty to make sure the Foundlings arrived safely. If you six had Emerged before or even during the war you would not have had to wait to be bonded with your dragon.”

“Wait a minute,” Kellinar sat forward, a scowl on his face. “Now you are telling us we have blasted dragons in our heads? Dragons we are supposed to form some sort of bond with?”

Emallya nodded. “Yes.”

“How do you know how long we’ve been hearing it?” Mckale asked. He wasn’t sure how he felt about everything, but his father had told him to go to Galdrilene and he trusted his father. In his mind the Dragon Song hummed as if the young dragon was happy to finally be recognized.

“When the young dragons begin to sing to their riders, the eggs will start to glow with the softest light and the humming can be heard if you are in close proximity to the eggs.”

“What happens,” Kirynn asked, “if the person dies before the egg hatches?”

Sadness shadowed Emallya’s face again when she answered. “The young dragon in the egg dies with its destined rider and the egg becomes dark. Five hundred years ago, when the war ended in that final tragic event, there were three clutches of eggs. One clutch laid by Rylin. Thirty two eggs in all.” She looked around the group. “The six that belong to you are all that is left. They died one by one over the centuries. The last two died almost sixteen years ago now. I tracked the Foundlings to a small mountain town called Lowden, but I arrived several months too late. They died in a fire.”

“I think you speak of my parents.” Maleena’s voice drew their attention.

M
ckale reached Maleena’s side before she finished speaking. Relief washed through him. “How do you feel?”

Maleena pushed herself from her sleeping roll and moved to sit with the others. “I feel tired, very tired.”

He helped her to sit. “I didn’t sense you were awake.”

“I’ve been awake for some time.” She turned to Emallya. “Your story is an amazing one. I might not believe it if I wasn’t sure you were speaking of my parents at the last.”

Emallya regarded her for a moment. “Why do you think I speak of them?”

“When I first started to hear the hum, or the Dragon Song as you call it, I told my grandmother. She said my mother and father both heard it. Nana thought it was a symptom of magic although she herself never heard it. She could heal with magic though, so I suspect she would’ve been one of those called only by their magic. I lived with my grandmother from the time I was three, after my parents died in a fire. Our little farm was outside Lowden.”

Emallya looked surprised. “You are the one I searched for. When I saw what you did this morning, I thought you might be. I felt you from time to time, but you always eluded me. I have only known one other who could do that, she was very powerful. She and her dragon were killed just before the last battle, not far from where Lowden is now.”

Maleena’s eyes widened. “I think I should tell you the story my grandmother told me.”

Mckale listened with interest as she told of the young woman found by a farmer and how she had been pregnant, but only lived long enough to give birth to a daughter. She told them of the scroll and the pendant and how the young woman said to keep it and pass it down to each generation of daughters.

Emallya leaned forward, her eyes intent. “Do you have the scroll and the pendant?”

“Of course. My grandmother told me to always keep it with me no matter what,” Maleena said. She rose and walked to the packs sitting on the grass behind them. Mckale watched her rummage into the bottom of one.

She tucked her chestnut hair behind her ears and stood. The morning light deepened the violet color of her eyes as she walked back with the scroll in one hand and the silver chain with its golden star pendant in the other. The necklace sparkled in the bright sunshine as she handed it to Emallya along with the scroll. His curiosity piqued, he leaned forward to get a better look at the objects.

Emallya stared at the scroll. “Eileana took this with her when she left Sharren, a nation on the edge of the desert that no longer exists. Shadow Riders attacked her on her way back to Galdrilene. We thought it lost when she disappeared. We found her dragon’s body, but not hers. Her bondmate couldn’t reach her. We thought her dead. Her bondmate and his dragon died a few days later in the battle that killed Rylin. Did your grandmother mention a book? Was there anything about a book in her story?”

Maleena shook her head. “She didn’t say anything about a book. Why? What kind of book?”

“A very special one. We thought both the book and the scroll were in the hands of the Benduiren. Since the scroll is not then perhaps the book is not either.”

Vaddoc’s brow furrowed. “What would it matter if the Benduiren had this scroll or the book in their possession?”

“If they had the book and found someone who could read it...it could prove disastrous.” Emallya ran her finger along the edge on the scroll and rolled it open. They all crowded around her peering over her shoulder.